


Riptide

by songsofthespring



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Surfers, Fluff, Hunk is the best bro, M/M, Photographer Keith, Pidge is a little ball of sass, Shiro and Allura are the cutest couple, Surfer Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8480656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsofthespring/pseuds/songsofthespring
Summary: Keith fumbles with the camera around his neck and lines up a shot. The boy coasting down a wave, one hand kissing the water. Keith zooms in as far as his lens will allow him. Droplets frame the boy’s brown skin and cling to his hair and chest. His eyes, little pinpricks of light from this distance, are nevertheless still recognizably as bright as the ocean itself. It looks like he could be dancing when he rides a wave; every part of his lanky frame seems to merge with the board and the ocean beneath him.
He’s beautiful.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ewagan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewagan/gifts).



> This fic was written for the Voltron Fanworks Exchange 2016 and it is dedicated to ewagan. I had so many good prompts to choose from and I had a really hard time choosing one, but I had a great time writing this (despite the fact that I know almost nothing about surfing whoops). This is the longest fic I have written in a very long time and I was trying a lot of new things so I'm aware it's not perfect, but I really hope you like it!!!

“This isn’t working Shiro,” Keith groans, nursing his coffee in an attempt to will away the stress headache between his brows. “I’ve been here more than a month already, and I haven’t taken a single good photo.”

What’s worse, he feels terrible about complaining because he’s got Allura and Shiro giving him twin grimaces of sympathy across the table.

Shiro sighs. “Keith. Have you actually explored the area? Talked to anyone? Pidge told me you haven’t even been down to the beach yet.”

“Ooh, yes! The beach is a lovely place for photos. I’m sure you’d find some inspiration there!” Allura adds, smiling, cheered by Shiro’s solution.

Keith thinks some choice words about his betrayer of a roommate. “Yeah, well, Pidge never leaves her room either unless she’s in class, so she doesn’t have room to talk.”

“Keith,” Shiro says, gently, “I know you feel out of place here. It’s a big change, coming from the big city to a little place like this. But I really feel like you’re going to find your inspiration here, if you just apply yourself. Of course you’re not getting any good photos like this.”

“We don’t mean to push you Keith,” Allura adds, “But it’s not good for you to be cooped up so much. We want you to feel comfortable here.”

Ugh, this is why Keith dislikes Shiro and Allura. Because not only are they a sickeningly affectionate couple, but they’re also always right. They have a way of getting Keith to feel bad about his life choices and want to do better. It’s embarrassingly like being lectured by his parents or something. “Alright, alright. I’ll try to go to the beach today, okay.”

Shiro smiles. “I wish I could come with you, but I promised Allura I’d go shopping with her today…”

Keith snorts. “No you don’t. Go and hang out with your girlfriend. It’s fine.”

Allura laughs. “Thank you Keith. I’m on a mission to get Shiro to appreciate more...modern styles.”

“Hey,” Shiro says, but there’s a teasing smile on his lips. “I know what you’re trying to say. You think I dress like an old man, admit it.”

“Well,” Allura says, delicately drawing out the word, “I wouldn’t say old man, exactly, but your fashion sense is a little...dated.”

Keith snorts and Shiro shoots him a chastising look. “Anyway,” Shiro says, his expression daring Keith to challenge his obvious attempt to change the subject, “we’re going to be busy, so you’re on your own for today.”

“It’s fine,” Keith grumbles, taking a large sip of his coffee, “You don’t have to babysit me or anything.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Allura says, “Shiro and I just want you to be happy here.”

Keith nods. “I know. And thanks, really. I’ll um. Get going then. See you guys around.”

“It was good seeing you Keith,” Shiro says, and waves, his smile turning a little bemused. “Be sure to tell us how it goes!”

“Yes, please do!” Allura adds, “Have fun today!”

And that’s how Keith ends up on the beach, feeling out of place and awkward. He observes the people sitting by the water first. There are the families, little kids screaming and laughing as they dash through the water, others building sandcastles. There’s a bunch of young people, tanning and chatting amongst themlseves. Nothing Keith hasn’t seen before and nothing of particular interest. Keith sighs. He’d known coming here had been a mistake. This was nothing like the scenes he’d normally like to shoot.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he catches movement, and he starts down the beach towards it. It’s a boy, probably about Keith’s own age. He’s paddling hard to keep up with a wave and as Keith watches, he jumps to his feet on his surfboard, and catches it.

Keith fumbles with the camera around his neck and lines up a shot. The boy coasting down a wave, one hand kissing the water. Keith zooms in as far as his lens will allow him. Droplets frame the boy’s brown skin and cling to his hair and chest. His eyes, little pinpricks of light from this distance, are nevertheless still recognizably as bright as the ocean itself. It looks like he could be dancing when he rides a wave; every part of his lanky frame seems to merge with the board and the ocean beneath him.

He’s beautiful.

Keith lingered at the beach far longer than he should have. Before he knows it, the sun is setting and Keith’s memory card is getting dangerously close to being full. Keith shakes his head, startled. It’s the first time in a long time he’s gotten so lost in shooting that he’s lost track of time. He looks up when the surfer boy hops off his board, and starts trudging up the beach, shaking water droplets out of his hair. Keith hurriedly packed his things.

Keith doesn’t understand why he’s so captivated by this boy, but this is more photos than he’s taken in months, and when he looks at them, later, some of them aren’t actually half bad. So, Keith tells himself, if that’s where his inspiration lies, then what’s the harm of going to the beach again tomorrow and keeping a lookout for that surfer boy?

Except, he can’t stop. Keith’s watching the boy again the next day. And the next. Keith never talks to him. He knows next to nothing about him, not even his name. But every time Keith is here, so is the boy, and Keith is transfixed.

The only thing Keith knows about the other boy is that he's a surfer and that he always has the brightest smile spread over his face as he rides a wave. He looks like he could be around Keith’s age, but that's just a guess. Sometimes, he's here surfing alone, and sometimes he's here with a friend.

Regardless, as soon as he starts to surf, he looks like he's in paradise. His expression is pure joy, and he radiates that positive energy. That's why Keith can't take his eyes away, even though he knows nothing about surfing or anything about the boy himself.

It’s completely illogical and just plain stupid for him to be here as often as he is, photographing a boy he doesn’t know. But he’s looking for something and that boy has it, so it’s impossible for Keith to ignore him. Impossible for him to look away.

Keith is aware that the other boy has noticed him. He’ll acknowledge Keith now, with a smile and a little wave, and Keith feels stupid, but he waves back. But that’s as close as they come to interacting.

They probably never would have spoken to each other at all, if it had been up to Keith. But it hadn’t been.

\--

“You done for the day Lance?” Hunk asks, “Because I’m sure you could really use something to eat. I have no idea how you can surf for so long. How long have you been out here now--three hours?”

“Four hours, if you count the time I spent warming up before you got here.” Lance says, paddling toward the beach at Hunk’s side. “But you know how I get when I’m surfing, dude. I don’t get hungry at all until you mention food….but now I’m starving.”

“Sorry,” Hunk says, shaking his head. “But it’s not good for you to do that. You could get dehydrated or your blood sugar could drop.”

“Yeah, yeah, mom,” Lance says, “I do have a water bottle and I eat before I come out.”

When they reach the beach, and Lance is, unfortunately, on dry land once again, Hunk looks up the beach. “Hey, that guy is here again,” he says, gesturing to him with a nod of his head.

Lance perks up immediately, scanning the beach goers for that familiar mullet. Sure enough, there he is, sitting on a towel and underneath an umbrella, dressed in a jacket and long black pants in the heat, and looking completely out of place.

“Dude, he’s looking at us again,” Lance says in a dramatic stage whisper. Okay, so he’s looking through the viewfinder of his camera, so he could be looking anywhere in Lance’s general direction, but Lance _knows_ mystery guy is looking at them. “Why do you think he keeps doing that? He’s been here taking photos every day for like a week now.”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s a project in one of his classes to take a bunch of pictures of total strangers?” Hunk replies, adjusting his grip on his surfboard. “Or maybe he’s some sort of secret agent! You haven’t broken any laws I don’t know about, have you Lance?”

Lance scoffs. “Puh-lease. That guy is not a secret agent. Secret agents are cool. This guy has a mullet.” Lance gestures dramatically to the offending hair style choice.

“Um. So?”

Oh Hunk. Innocent, clueless Hunk. “Sooo, cool guys in this century do not have mullets! He’s probably just admiring my good looks!”

So saying, Lance flexes a bicep. The camera flashes. “Oh my god!” Lance crows. “Did you see that?”

Hunk sighs. “Lance, buddy, I hate to tell you this, but he was definitely taking a picture of that bird over there.” Hunk points over his shoulder at a seagull, who promptly flaps away.

Lance sighs. “Wow, Pidge was right, I have the worst taste in people.” Guys, girls, it doesn’t seem to matter. Lance apparently does not know how to pick ’em.

Hunk claps Lance on the shoulder, smiling. “Hey, come on. You don’t even know his name. You haven’t even tried one pickup line. How do you know he’s a jerk? Maybe he just really likes seagulls. It’s not like you to give up before you even try Lance.”

Lance puffs up, beaming. This is why Hunk is the man. He always knows how to cheer Lance up, even when Lance doesn’t realize he needs cheering. “Hey, yeah. You know what? I’m going to go over there and talk to him. He’s been taking pictures of me for a whole week now, and I want to know why!”

“Uh. Lance? I didn’t say anything about that! I mean, he looks kind of busy and sometimes the direct approach isn’t the best…oh okay.”

Lance is hardly listening to his best friend’s chatter enough to notice Hunk has stopped talking. He’s already put his surfboard under his arm and started jogging off towards the guy with the camera.

\--

Oh god. He’s coming over. Why is he coming over? The surfer has never come up the beach towards Keith in all the time Keith has been coming here. Usually, when he’s done surfing, he walks down the beach aways towards a little shack that Keith guesses is some sort of surfing shop.

But today, he’s headed straight for Keith. Maybe it’s not intentional? He has never approached Keith before, after all, so why would he start now? Keith averts his gaze and pretends there is something very interesting in the sand by his feet. Just keep walking, he thinks aggressively at the boy.

“Hey,” says the surfer. He’s standing right there, and Keith can feel his eyes on him. Guess there’s no chance that he’s talking to someone else then. Keith raises his head, squinting against the sun to see the other boy. Up close, there’s a cocky undertone to his bright smile but the healthy flush across his cheeks, the freckles on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and the bright blue of his eyes are better than Keith imagined them. “The name’s Lance.”

“Keith.” His eyes drop back down to the very interesting particle of sand between his feet. He’s given the obligatory response. Hopefully that’s all the surfer--Lance--wants.

Keith really should have known better, because the next second, Lance pipes up again. “Hey, do you have a sunburn, or are you always this hot?” When Keith looks up in shock and horror at the ridiculous line, Lance has the audacity to wink. What the hell.

Keith must be glaring something fierce, because the playful flirtation in Lance’s posture switches quickly to one of horrified apology. He’s raised both hands, palms open, in a _please don’t hurt me_ gesture, and his smirk has faded into a wince.

“I know it was bad please don’t kill me!” Lance blurts, all in one breath.

“Do you try that line on everyone you meet here?” says Keith, eyebrow raising.

“Not everyone,” Lance says, “Just. Y’know. People who catch my eye.” Now, after that horrible attempt at flirting, he has the audacity to look shy, scuffing his toe through the sand like a timid preschooler.

“Huh,” says Keith, feeling an irritated mix of elation at Lance’s response and horror at his own elation. “And how effective has it been for you?”

“Ahah,” Lance rubs the back of his neck. “Well, that’s--”

“Lance!” Lance’s friend, the one who he often surfs with, appears by Lance’s side. Keith blinks. He hadn’t even realized the other boy was approaching. The boy shoots a large smile Keith’s way and waves a hand. “Hi there! My name’s Hunk! Please don’t mind my friend. He’s really cool, I promise.”

Hunk is definitely the same sort of truly genuine person that Allura and Shiro are. Keith can hear it in his open apologetic tone. Hunk oozes kindness and Keith imagines he’s the sort to listen to all your problems and then give you heart-felt advice. Still, even if Hunk is good-natured and non-threatening, he’s still another stranger that Keith is having to interact with.

“Yeah. Hi. Keith,” Keith says, trying not to let on how overwhelmed he is. It was bad enough having to talk to Lance on his own; now, apparently, Hunk and Lance are a package deal. “Was there something you needed from me?” He asks, his gaze flicking between Hunk and Lance.

“No need to be so cold dude. We just wanted to talk to you, is all,” Lance says, shaking his head. Water droplets flick from his still wet hair. That should definitely be illegal. “Right Hunk?”

“Yeah. That’s all! It’s nothing weird, I promise. We were just interested in...well, Lance mostly, but um. What are you taking pictures of?” By the end of Hunk’s fumbling sentence, Keith has to think a moment to parse any meaning out of it.

“Why does it matter what I take pictures of?” Keith asks, defensively. “This beach is public property, isn’t it?”

“Come on, man, I know you’ve been snapping sweet pictures of me for like a week now,” Lance says, placing one hand on his hip. “What’s it for? School or something?”

Keith feels his shoulders tense. Shit. He hadn’t realized he’d been so transparent. “I. I won’t do it again. Is that what you want?”

“What? No!” Lance blurts, his blue eyes wide. Then, more calmly, he adds, “I just wanna see ‘em. You must have taken some sweet shots with a fancy camera like that one. If I’m gonna be your model, I want to at least take a gander at the goods!”

Keith frowns in confusion. “You. Don’t want me to stop?”

Hunk shakes his head. “We don’t mind at all. We were just curious, like I said. You don’t have to show him, if you don’t want. I can make him stop--” Lance groans Hunk’s name in protest, “--but if you wouldn’t mind, it would be really cool to see what kind of pictures you’ve been taking.”

Lance gives Keith puppy dog eyes. Keith can tell he’s trying to pretend he’s not doing so, but he’s extremely transparent.

“Fine,” says Keith, reluctantly. Lance whoops. “But only a few.”

As soon as he says the words, he panics internally. Shit, what photos is he going to show them? Keith has no doubt that his stupid crush on Lance will be extremely apparent, given the number of photos Keith has taken of Lance. And will be they be able to see his admiration for the easy joyous friendship between them? The longing Keith feels to have his passion for photography match the adoration Lance has for his sport?

Keith fumbles in his messenger bag for some of the photos he’s had printed. Lance, who has dropped to a crouch next to Keith, peers over his shoulder with poorly contained excitement, which only has the effect of making Keith more nervous.

Finally, Keith decides on the photo he judges to be most innocuous. It’s an action shot of Lance surfing, arms spread and eyes bright. Lance gasps dramatically and snatches the photo out of Keith’s hand.

“Dude,” he crows, “Hunk, look at how awesome I look!” He shoves the photo at Hunk, who takes it much more gently.

“This is really good,” Hunk says, smiling. “Do you have any pictures of me? Maybe? It’s okay if you don’t!”

Keith nods, trying not to let on how happy Hunk’s praise made him. “Yeah, I have some of you too. Hang on.”

Photos without Lance in them are rare, but Keith’s taken plenty of shots of Lance and Hunk together, both pictures of them on their boards and talking afterwards on the beach. He’s ashamed to think about it now, but he’d been ridiculously jealous of Hunk’s friendship with Lance. But he can’t feel that way now that he’s met Hunk. Keith has to wonder whether it’s even possible to bear a grudge against Hunk. Probably not.

Keith hands Hunk a shot of Hunk and Lance. Hunk is in the background, riding a curling wave. In the foreground, Lance’s silhouette is providing enthusiastic support from the beach, one fist in the air.

Hunk gasps dramatically. “Wow! You’re really _really_ good at photography Keith!”

“Thanks,” Keith says, and this time he can’t restrain a little smile. “It’s what I do for a living actually.”

“And what’s some big shot photographer doing out here in the boonies taking pictures of me and Hunk, huh? Don’t you have some big gig in Hollywood to get to or something?” Lance asks and Keith grits his teeth.

“I’m. Working with a new theme.” Keith says, hoping Lance will be satisfied with that.

“Oh yeah? And what, exactly, is that?” Lance says, raising an eyebrow. “Surfer dudes?”

Shit. Keith has no idea how to backtrack from this. He certainly can’t tell Lance the truth, that the only theme in Keith’s recent photos is Lance himself.

“Alright, fine, if you’re not going to tell me, I’m going to try and figure it out. Plus, now that I know you’ve been holding out on us all this time, let’s see some more! There’s a bunch in that photo book you’ve got there. Give me a look!”

Lance moves closer to Keith, and Keith, scrambles back, clutching his bag.

“No! That’s enough--I---you can’t force me to show you my photos. They’re mine!”

“What the hell are you blathering about dude? Give ‘em here!” Lance says, reaching for Keith’s bag. “If they’re photos of me, I have a right to see them!”

“Uhhhh,” Hunk says, “Lance, what are you doing?”

Lance snatches for Keith’s bag, but Keith has no intention of letting him have it. They end up playing tug-of-war with Keith’s bag like children. Keith recognizes it’s stupid, but he’s too angry to stop tugging.

“Give it back!”

“Why are you being so weird all of a sudden?” Lance replies, grimacing with effort as he tugs at Keith’s bag, “They’re just photos, dude.”

Lance’s mouth is still open, like he’s planning on saying more, but he doesn’t get to before Keith tackles him. They go rolling around in the sand, wrestling for the bag. Lance screams, stupidly, like he’s an extra in a war movie. Keith manages to pin Lance underneath him despite Lance wriggling around and yelling in Keith’s ear.

Keith is upset. Obviously, he’s upset these are his photos and he never lets anyone see his photos and now Lance wants to see _more_ , but for some reason, he’s grinning. The adrenalin must be messing with his head. Apparently, it’s mutual because Lance is grinning too. God, his teeth are so white. It’s incredibly unfair.

Their contest is interrupted by Hunk, who wrests the bag from the both of them, and shouts, “Dude,” at a contrite looking Lance. Hunk hands the bag to Keith, and Keith clutches at the bag even as he focuses his attention on glaring at Lance.

The weight of a familiar, comforting hand on Keith’s shoulder stops the impending disaster in its tracks. Thank god.

“Keith,” Shiro says, smiling his familiar gentle smile, “I see you’ve met Hunk and Lance.”

“Shiro!” Lance crows, “Hey, you know this guy?”

“Sure I do,” Shiro says, ruffling Keith’s hair obnoxiously. “Keith and I have been friends for a long time. What are you guys up to?”

“Ummmm...nothing really,” Hunk says, in quite possibly the most suspicious way possible.

“I was just leaving, actually,” Keith says. He stands, giving Shiro a quick look to convey he has absolutely no desire to stick around and chat at the moment. “Aren’t we going to be late?”

Shiro shoots him a confused look, but he goes along with it. “Sorry,” Shiro says, “Keith and I have somewhere to be. I’d love to stay and catch up with you two, but he’s right, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.” While Shiro explains, Keith rolls up his towel and closes the umbrella. He has never packed up his things faster in his life.

“Aww, really?” Lance says, pouting. “He can’t hang around a little longer? He was showing us his crazy good photos.”

Shiro shoots Keith a surprised look before Keith can say anything. Shiro knows how rare it is for Keith to show anyone his photos. Even Shiro rarely gets a look at them. And there’s no way that Keith is going to show Shiro any of the photos he’s recently taken. He’d been reluctant to tell Shiro he’d been taking photos of some random surfer and now that he knows Shiro knows Lance, it makes it even worse.

Keith shakes his head; he’ll explain everything to Shiro later.

“I’m afraid it can’t wait,” Shiro says, and Keith marvels at his ability to sound both firm and kindly apologetic in the same breath. “I’m sure we’ll see both of you around.”

“Sure,” Hunk says, taking Lance’s arm, and tugging him back towards the beach. “Bye Shiro! Come on Lance. Let’s go get pizza or something.”

Lance frowns and gives Keith a searching look. “Fine,” he says, slowly, and then his gaze leaves Keith.

Keith watches their backs as they head back down the beach, and hears Lance crow, “Let’s go stuff our faces, buddy!”

\--

Stuffing his face is an understatement for what Lance is doing. But developing a huge crush on a guy with a mullet really works up a guy’s appetite. “The dude is like. Amazing. Do you think he’d let me use his photos on my blog or something? Because I look fine in those photos.” Lance takes another aggressive bite of pizza and wipes stray tomato sauce away with the back of his hand.

Hunk shrugs. “I don’t know. But Lance, I know you’re excited, but you might want to get to know Keith a little better before you….overwhelm him with your um. Affection.”

“Hunk, Hunk, Hunk. Compadre. Buddy. I know you’re concerned, but I’ve got this in the bag. I mean, he has to be into me right? He took photos of me! Good photos!”

“Um yeah, and then you tried to steal his photos and you guys were rolling around on the ground and you were, like, yelling at him a little bit?” Hunk takes another bite of his Vegetarian, which Lance eyes suspiciously. Pizza is not supposed to be healthy, darn it! Who wants mushrooms on anything anyway? “I’m just saying, that doesn’t bode well for the future of your relationship. And you remember what happened….basically every other time you’ve had a crush.”

Lance wilts. “Dude. Uncool, bringing up all those losers from my past.”

Hunk looks genuinely contrite, but he cares on, nonetheless. “I’m just trying to look out for my best friend here. I mean, he’s Shiro’s friend, so he’s probably a nice guy, but. Just because he took a bunch of photos of you doesn’t mean he likes you. Maybe he’s just taking a bunch of pictures of surfers? Or maybe he’s just plain interested in surfing. Look….all I’m saying is, you might want to take this slower. Maybe try and be his friend first?”

“Huuuunk, why do you have to be so reasonable?” Lance says, pressing his forehead to the table in defeat. “But yeah, you’re probably right. He did seem a little panicky right before we left. He’s the shy type, I can tell.”

“Um, he really didn’t seem shy to me. More...really, really angry with you? I mean, you kind of tried to steal his bag. I’m still not really sure why, exactly?”

“I wanted to see his photos and he was being cagey about them.”

Well,” says Hunk, finishing off his slice of pizza, a bit of green pepper hanging out of his mouth before he pops it back into his mouth, “let’s look on the bright side. You might have freaked him out by trying to steal his bag, but at least you didn’t use one of your pickup lines on him.”

“I did,” Lance mumbles, staring down at his half-eaten slice. He picks off a piece of sausage and pops it in his mouth.

“What?”

“I did use a pickup line on him,” Lance says, sighing. “I just. Get so nervous they just pop out, you know that!”

“Oh no,” Hunk moans, “which one was it?”

“The. Um. One about the sunburn?”

Hunk shakes his head. “Ooh. Well, if he comes back to the beach tomorrow after that one, he’s probably your soulmate.”

\--

“Hey, what was all that about?” Shiro asks, as soon as the two of them had stepped off the beach and onto the sidewalk again. “Lance wasn’t bothering you or something was he?”

“No,” Keith says, sighing. “He was just a little. Much. How was shopping the other day?”

Shiro frowns, not fooled by Keith’s clumsy attempt to change the subject. But the mention of his girlfriend’s name always softens Shiro, and he caves. “It went great. She found some nice outfits for me. She found some things for herself too. She really has an eye for fashion. Even I can tell, and my standards are apparently terrible. And somehow, she always finds things on sale!” By the end of Shiro’s speech, his face is flushed and his eyes are distant. It’s really disgusting how gone he is on this girl. Granted, Keith will admit that Allura is a beautiful and frankly badass woman. If Keith wasn’t incredibly gay, he might have even been interested in her himself.

“That’s cool,” Keith says. He has no interest in shopping himself, but Shiro’s always enjoyed it, and Keith’s pretty sure he’d go anywhere if Allura was there too.

“And what about you? Have you been able to take some photos lately?”

“Uh...yeah,” Keith says, feeling awkward and praying Shiro doesn’t pry about the subject of those photos. “A few.”

“That’s great!” Shiro says, “You’re taking photos again and you’re starting to make friends. I’m really happy for you.”

“You, Allura, and Pidge are my friends.” Keith replies, stubbornly. He’s aware he sounds like a bratty fourteen-year-old, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Of course,” Shiro says, “I just mean it’s good to branch out. And Lance and Hunk are good guys.” Shiro claps a hand on Keith’s shoulder, and Keith leans into the touch. Shiro’s using his prosthetic hand and it makes Keith feel warm and happy because he knows Shiro only casually touches people with that hand when he trusts them. “I’m proud of you. I know how difficult it is for you to talk to strangers and show anyone your photos.”

“Thanks for having my back today,” Keith says. He’s not sure how he would have gotten rid of Lance if not for Shiro’s impeccable timing.

“Happy to help,” Shiro says, giving Keith’s shoulder a squeeze and then releasing it. “But I hope you’ll give Lance and Hunk a chance. They mean well and they’re my friends too.”

They’ve reached Keith’s apartment complex, so Shiro waves him goodbye and ambles on down the street.

When Keith unlocks the door, he braces himself. Sure enough, the moment he steps inside, his roommate’s sharp eyes meet his and narrow. Pidge may look innocent, but she has a habit of prying everything out of Keith and then promptly giving him shit. She’s an awesome roommate but it’s hell trying to keep secrets around her.

By the time Keith had finished moving in, Pidge had learned more about Keith than most people. And by most people, Keith basically means Shiro and Allura by extension. Keith still doesn’t know how Pidge does it, exactly, because it’s a strange combination of charm, wit, and force. Keith is very, very glad that Pidge is his friend and not his enemy.

Pidge’s knack for getting information out of him is the reason why she’s the only one who knows who Keith’s been taking photos of lately. He’s never shown her of a photo of the surfer, but he told PIdge about him, which, honestly, might have been worse. She’s been giving him shit about it ever since. The first time he brought it up to her, she’d started laughing hysterically. Keith is starting to suspect Pidge knows who Keith is talking about, but she’s kept mum about it so far and neither death threats nor bargaining have been enough to convince her to tell him one way or the other.

“How was the beach?” Pidge asks, swinging her feet from her perch at the kitchen table. She’s got her laptop out as usual, and her eyes return to the screen and her fingers fly across the keys even as she adds, “Was mysterious surfer boy there?”

“Yeah,” says Keith, gently removing his bag from his shoulder and hanging it by the door. “His name is Lance.” Shit. He shouldn’t have said that. He picks up his pace, trying to speed walk to his room before Pidge picks up on what he just said.

“Woah woah woah!” Pidge crows, “Stop right there Keith Kogane! You _talked_ to him?”

Keith grits his teeth. Dammit. He turns around to face Pidge, arms crossed. “Who says I talked to him?”

He’s completely gained Pidge’s attention now, and the wicked grin on her face is angled in Keith’s direction instead of at her screen. “Well for one, you know his name now. And two, your face is completely red because your poker face is terrible.” Pidge cackles. “I can’t believe this. Tell me everything. Was he as much of a dreamboat as you imagined?”

“He’s not---I never called him a dreamboat,” Keith replies, hotly. “He’s just. A guy. He freaked out about my photos.”

“What do you mean freaked out? Like a good freaked out?”

“Like a ‘he saw two photos, seemed to think they were the best thing ever, and proceeded to try and steal my bag’ kind of freaked out. And he wouldn’t let go! Even after I tackled him!” Keith runs his hands through his hair, and sure enough, he can feel the grains of sand between his fingers. Ugh, he’ll probably have sand in there forever.

Pidge laughs. “Oh my god. I would have paid good money to see that.” She glances back at her computer screen and rapidly types a stream of nonsense. It’s code, Keith knows that much, but beyond that, he has no clue. “So? Are you still gay for him?”

Keith sighs, tugging at his hair. “I don’t know. He’s. Attractive, I’ll give him that. But he’s just. A lot. He’s kind of an asshole. But he liked my photos.”

Pidge snorts. “The fact that you showed him them at all means you are totally swooning over this guy.” She strikes a pose, one hand pressed to her forehead. “Oh Lance!” She coos, in a voice that definitely does not sound like Keith’s. “Compliment my photos again!”

“I do not sound like that!” Keith tells her, caught between fury and embarrassment.

“Suuuure you don’t,” Pidge replies, “But to be honest, I don’t really care as long as he’s not being a jerk to you. He’s not being a jerk to you, right?”

“Not really,” Keith said. “He tried to steal my bag which was...weird, but I think maybe he was just curious. Ugh, I don’t know. It’s impossible to get a clear read on him. You’d understand if you met him. He’s like...the sun. He’s really pretty to look at, in the right environment, but if you look at him too close, he hurts your eyes.”

“Gay!” crows Pidge. “That was like the most gay shit that’s ever come out of your mouth, dude, and you’ve said some really gay shit.”

Keith sighs. There’s clearly no use in trying to describe the feeling to Pidge. It says something about the strength of his desire to end this topic of conversation that he asks the dreaded question. “So, what are you working on?”

“Well,” says Pidge, pushing up her glasses. “I’m glad you asked!”

In the ensuing nonsensical rant about coding and hacking and generally nerdy computer things, Keith lets his mind wander. Despite Lance’s overbearing behavior, he still wants to go to the beach tomorrow. As long as he keeps a firm grip on his bag and doesn’t let Lance see any damning photos, it should be fine.

\--

Lance practically sprints down to the beach the next day. He can’t wait to get out on the water and burn off his nervous energy. Still, he knows he’s going to be distracted out there today, wondering if Keith will show up or not.

And what is he going to do if Keith is there? Lance definitely doesn’t want to scare him off. He has a plan, but he has no idea if it’ll work.

As always, the world around him fades out when he starts to surf, and his mind falls blissfully quiet. The entire world is the sun streaming down on his back and shoulders, and the icy pull of the water beneath him.

He loses track of time when he’s out on the water, but eventually, he happens to glance at the beach and spot a familiar looking camera. He rides the water up towards the beach and then jogs over. He could have waited, but the anticipation probably would have killed him. No, better to do this now, and get it over with so Lance can surf off his disappointment if things don’t work out.

“Hey Keith!” Lance calls, waving, and Keith’s face pops out from behind the camera. He seems startled, and Lance, wary of scaring Keith off, slows to a walk as he approaches.

Just like yesterday, Keith is perched on a blanket underneath an umbrella. Today, he’s wearing a gray beanie, the same red jacket as yesterday, and dark wash jeans with a bunch of holes in them. Lance can’t tell if he’s trying to be hipster and failing or if he has no sense of fashion whatsoever. It’s not like Lance can talk, exactly, but he would at least classify his wetsuit as normal beach wear.

“What is it?” Keith asks, blinking his big dark eyes. Cheese and crackers, his eyelashes are long. That’s not fair at all.

“Um.” Lance says, momentarily thrown, “I. Um.” Then he reminds himself to stop being useless and says, grinning. “I have a proposition for you.”

Keith’s shoulders tense. Geez, the guy could really use a good massage. He always looks incredibly tense to Lance’s eyes. “Is that right?” Keith says, his tone just as suspicious as his posture.

“Yeah,” Lance says, leaning casual as you please against his surfboard. “See, I want to see more of your photos.” Keith tenses even more, if that’s even possible. His shoulders are practically at his ears. “But I know you’re a little touchy about that. And I get you, personal stuff, hard to share one’s passions, blah blah. So, I had an idea! It’s only fair for me to give you something in return for sharing photos with me.” Lance pauses dramatically for emphasis.

Keith blinks at him, looking unimpressed. “And?”

“Aaaand,” Lance says, grinning, “what’s worth more than surfing lessons from a surfing master, huh? You seem to be interested, so I’ll lend you a board, and give you a rundown. Deal?”

“No deal,” says Keith flatly.

“What? Seriously?” Lance frowns, thrown by Keith’s immediate refusal. Had he phrased it wrong? Was Keith not interested in surfing after all? “I thought you’d at least consider it. Can’t you swim?”

“I can swim,” Keith says, glaring like Lance had insulted his mother. “Are you going to try and steal my bag again?” Man, he’s more touchy about that then Lance thought he would be.

“No! Dude, like I said, I’ll get to see photos in return for lessons! And you can even choose which ones you wanna show me. I promise I won’t try and take your precious bag, alright?”

Keith looks two seconds from bolting. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should have asked Keith out to pizza first and got to know him better? Geez, what was he going to tell Hunk?

“Fine,” Keith says, and he takes Lance a moment to process Keith has actually acquiesced because he looks pissed, to the point where Lance takes a little step back.

“Wait. Really?” Lance blurts, and punches a fist in the air. “Awesome! I’ve got a spare wetsuit, so we can start right now!”

Keith’s eyes are the size of dinner plates. “Wait--”

“Aww come on Keith. Don’t back out on me now!” Lance says, and offers Keith a hand. “Pretty please?”

Keith gives Lance’s hand a look, like he suspects contact with it will be tantamount to putting his hand in a shark’s mouth. Still, he meets Lance’s eyes, and takes his hand.

\--

This is the worst decision Keith has ever made. He feels strange and overexposed in the form fitting wetsuit. He’s at least relieved that Lance had a locker at the shack--which turns out to be a combination surfing gear, trinkets, and snack store--to secure Keith’s camera and bag. The last thing Keith wants is for his equipment and photos to be stolen while he’s entertaining Lance.

Lance has procured two surfboards, his usual board, which has “Blue” written on it in blocky script, and a slightly smaller board, “Red”, which has the word written in a messy scrawl. He’d introduced both of the boards like they were his pet dogs or something, patted them fondly, and then, to Keith’s surprise, set them both down, stating that they wouldn’t need them this time, and headed out towards the water.

Keith trailed on Lance’s heels, already incredibly confused, pausing at the edge of the water when Lance goes prancing into deeper water.

“Right!” Lance says, still marching through the water, his hands on his hips, like he thinks he’s a peewee sports coach, or something, “Before I put you on a board, I’m gonna make sure you get to know the ocean.”

Lance has already waded into the water so it laps up his torso. But Keith hasn’t ventured that far in yet. Instead, his feet are set firmly on wet sand, and every time the tide comes out, the cold water burns as it passes over his feet.

“Hey, why did you stop?” Lance says, waving Keith over. “What are you doing way over there? You’re not scared of the water, are you?”

“Of course not,” Keith snaps, and steps towards Lance, peering at his feet to make sure he doesn’t step on a rock or a sharp piece of shell.

Once Keith has walked over to Lance, causing everything from his waist down to lose all feeling in the chill of the water, Lance seems satisfied and continues his rambling. “Okay, so, what we’re gonna do is, you’re going to lay in the water on your back. And I am going to hold you up. Then, once I feel like you’re getting it, I’m going to let you go. Deal?”

“Why is this necessary? I know how to swim. I can float fine.” Keith says, staring at Lance with no small amount of suspicion. He hasn’t been swimming for a long time, but that’s a separate matter and none of Lance’s concern.

“What, are you afraid of a little bonding time with the ocean?”

“I’m not afraid,” Keith replies, irritated.

No, it’s not fear that has him hesitating. The image of Lance, looking down at him, pressing his palms against Keith’s back, the two of them being rocked by the same waves. It’s. It’s a lot. He’s barely gotten over the fact that his crush is talking to him, and now, Lance is going to be touching him, and speaking to him, and smiling that too wide, too white smile. Fuck.

“Alright, then! Let’s do it. Just picture taking a bath or something. Do you take baths?”

“No,” says Keith, “They’re a waste of time and they’re not the most effective method of getting clean. I don’t see the point.”

Lance barks a laugh. “God, you are super lame dude. Okay, lay back, lay back--” Keith glares “--Lay back and don’t kill me, your supportive and knowledgeable teacher!”

Keith does not stop glaring, but he does his best to lay back in the water. Immediately, he feels unstable. He can’t seem to keep his legs from wanting to sink into the water. But Lance is quick to support him, and puts his hands at the center of Keith’s back, holding him steady.

“You did it! Go Keith! Now, you’re gonna close your eyes…”

“What? Why? What does this have to do with surfing?”

“Shhh. Who's the teacher here?”

Keith grumbles, but closes his eyes. The sensation of the water licking at his body is immediately more intense, and he half imagines that he’s being carried off the by the waves, but no, Lance’s hands are still there. His ears are half underwater, so there’s a strange distance to everything he hears. Lance’s voice sounds like it’s coming from another world.

“Get to know the water,” Lance is saying, sounding stupidly like a washed-up yogi. “Say hi, understand how it moves. The ocean can be kind of fickle, but if you get to know her, she’s pretty awesome!”

Keith cracks his eyes open and squints up at Lance. “You’re terrible at this, you know that?”

“Shut it!” Lance snaps, embarrassment heavy in his tone. “Just relax!”

It takes time, but Lance doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his ridiculous chattering fades out and he loses himself just as much as Keith. Keith stops thinking about how ridiculous it is that he’s doing this, and just...fades out. He doesn’t even understand it himself. He just...stops thinking about anything. His head is empty of everything but the sensation of the sun on his face and the water at his back.

He’s barely conscious of Lance’s hands leaving his back. He didn’t know the ocean could be like this. Calming.

He doesn’t even notice Lance has drawn back, letting him float on his own, until he hears Lance say, “Huh, maybe I don’t need to teach you how to swim after all!”

“I told you, I know how to swim,” Keith says, irritably, and stops floating in order to jab a finger at Lance’s chest. “Can we get to the actual surfing lessons now?”

“Hey, why’d you stop? You were doing good!” Lance replies, pouting.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Just so you know, I’m not giving you anything for that lesson.”

Lance sighs dramatically. “No appreciation for the art that is surfing lessons.”

\--

Lance is a bad teacher, he’ll be the first to admit it. Not because he’s actually bad at telling Keith how to do things, per say. He knows his stuff and Keith is a pretty eager student too, his face all serious as he listens to instructions. No, Lance is a bad teacher not because of his ability to teach, but because of his inability to do so without flirting.

But in this scenario, he’d dare anyone to try and resist. First off, he’s working with Keith, who wrinkles his nose when he’s frustrated and grins to himself a little when he gets something right. That’s bad enough. Then, add to Keith’s general attractiveness that Lance has him on the beach practicing pop-ups, meaning that the way Keith positions his body is key, which means...Lance has an excuse to touch him. All over. And Keith isn’t currently wearing a shirt, just Lance’s old swim trunks. Yeah, Lance is screwed.

“Okay, and pop up!” Lance says, and Keith does so. “Speed was good, but you’re a little off balance. Try to keep centered. When you pop you want to bring your front knee under your chin and then just tilt your hips. Here, like this.” Lance’s behind Keith now, feeling Keith’s sharp hip bones under his hands as he gently moves Keith’s body. “Feel that? Nice and smooth.”

“Uh huh,” Keith mumbles, and Lance takes a step back, releasing Keith and taking a deep breath. Fuck, he’s a really, really bad teacher.

“Alright, try again.”

This time, Keith follows Lance’s instructions to the letter, but he’s too tense, and his knees are practically locked.

“Take it easy, keep your knees bent,” Lance tells him, and Keith, with his cute little scrunchy nose of frustration, nods.

“Here, let me show you,” Lance says, because he absolutely can’t resist pressing a hand to the center of Keith’s back to gently encourage him off the board so Lance can demonstrate. Lance has his own board, but Blue hasn’t been seeing much use today.

Luckily, after Lance demonstrates, Keith performs a pop up that is improved enough that Lance has an excuse to pat Keith on the back and tell him they’re done for the day. Keith is always pleased when they end on a high note, and his eyes are practically sparkling as they head up the beach so Keith can pick out of a photo or two to show Lance in return.

“Hey, good job out there today buddy,” Lance tells him, as Keith flips through his photos in search of something he deems worthy of sharing. “I think you’re ready to go out on the water and try to ride some waves. Next lesson, maybe.”

“Thanks,” Keith says, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Pretty soon I’ll be giving you a run for your money.”

“Uh huh,” says Lance, “Sure. You tell yourself that. But Lance McClain is a local surfing legend, thank you very much. No way the likes of you is going to beat me out. Hey, wanna bet you totally wipe out on your first wave?”

Keith looks up and shoots Lance a glare. “Thought you said I was ready to ride a wave.”

Lance snorts. “No, pal, what I said was, I think you’re ready to try. Big difference. Don’t go getting all cocky on me now.”

“You think I’m the cocky one?” Keith asks, raising an eyebrow, daring Lance to question him.

Lance barks a laugh. “Fair,” he says, “but unlike you, I have a reason to be.”

Keith seems to have selected a photo but though he’s pulled it out, he doesn’t seem to want to hand it to Lance. Instead, he pulls it in closer to himself. “Maybe I shouldn’t show this to you,” Keith says, grinning, “Wouldn’t want your head to get so big it explodes.”

“Haha,” Lance says, as monotone as he can manage. “Come on, cough it up.”

Keith hands it over and Lance drinks it in greedily. It’s a really good shot. Lance is performing an aerial, and Keith’s caught him right when he’s catching the most air at the height of the jump. It’s a really cool shot, the kind you’d expect to see on the front of a magazine cover or something. Lance even looks pretty cool in it; he looks focused, but he’s not making a weird face, which, honestly, is all Lance can ask for during an intense action shot like this.

“Sweet,” Lance says, handing it back. “The fangirls will totally love that one.”

Keith rolls his eyes and mutters something about Lance’s big head, but he’s smiling a crooked little smile, so Lance doesn’t mention it.

Instead, he grins, throwing an arm around Keith’s shoulders and asks, “So? Up for some pizza?”

\--

Infuriatingly just as Lance predicted, Keith’s first attempt at surfing ends with him careening off his board and under the water. He spits out water in Lance’s general direction. Lance had ridden the same wave effortlessly and is laughing uproariously next to him.

“You’re such an asshole,” Keith says, flipping Lance off.

“Aww come on. It was funny. Your face was so good!” Lance seems to sense Keith’s frustration, and his face softens. “Honestly, it wasn’t bad for your first attempt. You just have to get better at keeping your balance. And you’re still too stiff. You want to bend your knees more.

“Right,” Keith says, but implementing all that is easier said than done. Lance has been surfing since he was a child, and he seems to have a natural knack for the sport. Keith, meanwhile, while he considers himself to be an athletic person, feels off-balance and clumsy on his board.

It takes Keith several hours to actually ride a wave. In between, he continues to fumble around and generally make an ass of himself. Lance gives him advice after each attempt for a while, but he seems to sense when Keith is getting frustrated, and leaves him alone for a bit to surf on his own.

Finally, after what feels like years, Keith manages to successfully stay on his board. It’s a much smaller wave than the ones Lance can ride with ease, but Keith is pleased with his success anyway, and he looks over his shoulder when Lance whoops his approval. Of course, this causes him to overbalance and topple off the board. When he comes up again, Lance has paddled over to him.

“Not bad, not bad!” He says, grinning widely. “We’ll make a surfer out of you yet Keith!”

Keith smiles. He’s starting to appreciate this surfing thing. It’s much more difficult than Lance makes it seem, but he can see the appeal now. The feeling of riding a wave makes him feel like he’s untouchable. But Lance’s praise is somehow even more addicting. Keith is already prone to want to prove himself and he’s competitive as all hell, but when Lance praises him, Keith wants to ride a thousand waves, just so Lance can keep telling him he’s doing well. It’s really embarrassing, if Keith thinks about it, which is why he doesn’t.

\--

“Huuuunk,” Lance moans piteously. His head is currently in his best friend’s lap, which is the optimum position for rolling around dramatically on the couch. “I’m so gay.”

When Lance gets like this, there is only one solution. Cuddle time with his best bro plus the sweet sweet embrace of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Lance has currently put the ice cream aside in an effort to maximize his cuddling potential.

Hunk rolls his eyes. “Okay, first off you’re obnoxiously bi and you know it.”

“True, true,” Lance says, nodding his head sagely. This does not have quite the stuffy old man wisdom-y kind of effect he wants as he is still lying with his head in Hunk’s lap.

“Secondly,” Hunk says, “this is just pitiful. Just ask him out already! He clearly likes you, if your horrible pickup lines _and_ weird surfing lessons didn’t scare him off.”

“Yeah, but what if asking him out is the straw that breaks the camel’s back? I mean, we’re just starting to be friends, and he’s just starting to get decent at surfing. And if he rejects me, all that goes up in smoke!” Lance cries, and buries his face into Hunk’s stomach.

“Lance, just eat your Ben and Jerry’s.” Hunk says, shoving the container of Chocolate Fudge Brownie into Lance’s hands.

Lance sniffles but accepts the offering and even deigns to sit up so that he can eat a spoonful. “But,” he mumbles around his spoon, “what if I ruin it Hunk? Not only would Keith probably eviscerate me but so would Shiro and then I’d be uselessly single _and_ dead!”

Hunk rolls his eyes. “Okay. Well, why don’t we practice? I can be Keith, and you just tell me what you want to say to him.”

“I’m bi and I really really want to kiss you?”

“....Well, that’s a start.”

\--

Surfing may not come naturally to Keith, but it gets easier the more he practices. Despite his easy-going personality, as a teacher, Lance is pretty relentless. They’re usually out on the water for two hours, and Lance doesn’t show any sign of fatigue, even though he usually surfs for an hour or two before Keith’s lessons start. If anything, Lance is more energized after a day spent on the water. After a lesson he’s at his most talkative, flushed with exertion and the nip of the breeze, chattering to Keith about anything and everything.

It’s easy to listen to him talk about his family, his love of the sport, his friendship with Hunk, and any little thing that’s on his mind that day, but Keith often ends up being dragged into the conversation himself. Lance has a way of putting him at ease, at making him feel comfortable opening up that Keith has only experienced around Shiro and Pidge.

The fact that Keith is showing Lance his photos is, in itself, pretty amazing. Even Shiro doesn’t often see his photos and he’s Keith’s closest friend. But Keith finds himself wanting to show Lance his photos, wanting to see Lance’s face light up with excitement. And Lance is always thrilled at the end of the lesson when Keith pulls out his bag to find one to share. It’s...flattering.

Keith is starting to suspect that exposure to Lance is like an addiction. He keeps telling himself he can quit anytime, but spending time with Lance has become the highlight of his day and if Lance wasn’t making a regular appearance in his photos before, he’s taken over his camera film now.

They’ve even started spending time together out of the water. Lance usually insists on getting some sort of food after they’re done surfing, so they end up becoming regulars at several local restaurants. Keith learns that Lance is quite possibly the messiest pizza eater ever and that he will mix so many shaved ice flavors that his dessert comes out a purple-brown mess. He learns that Lance is morally opposed to vegetables but has an addiction to all types of seafood and apparently freaked out his younger sisters with a lobster exoskeleton at a particularly memorable family party.

Mostly, he learns that he is completely and utterly screwed.

“I’m screwed,” Keith moans, as soon as he comes in the door.

“Yeah, I saw that coming.” Pidge says, like the understanding friend that she is. She doesn’t even look up. “Took you long enough to realize that. Now are you going to ask him out or are you going to continue to be weird about this for a while, because I have a big project coming up and I kind of need to know what to be prepared for.”

Keith shoots his best murderous look Pidge’s way, but Pidge has already become impervious to Keith’s glares.

“I’m just saying, if you’re that obsessed with Lance, just ask him out!” Pidge says, making a quiet triumphant sound under her breath as she apparently succeeds on doing...something to the robot she’s been tinkering with. “You’re smiling, like, way more, and you’re actually getting a tan because you’ve been outside so much!  Besides, there’s no way he won’t go out with you. Compared to the last guy he went out with, you’re the nicest guy on the planet!”

It takes a moment for the significance of that last statement to sink in, but when it does, Keith says, triumphantly,“So you do know him! I knew it!”

“Shit,” Pidge mumbles to herself. “Guess the game is up. Of course I know Lance. The dude knows everyone that lives here.”

“And when, exactly, were you planning on telling me?” Keith asks, irritated.

“Um. When you guys got together? Sorry Keith. It was just too funny hearing you go on and on about him. I knew there was no way you were going to do that if you knew I knew him.”

Keith sighs and collapses into the chair next to Pidge. “Pidge, if you know him, you know what he’s like. Lance is not going to go for a guy like me.”

“Blarg,” Pidge cries, miming gagging. “Please don’t. I’m supposed to be the teenager here, not you. Aren’t you supposed to be out of your emo self-deprecating phase already?” Keith just sighs. “...Fine. If you won’t listen to me, I’ve got no choice.” She starts dialing and Keith knows exactly who she’s calling.

“Don’t you dare!” Keith snaps, lunging for the phone, but it’s too late. Pidge already has it pressed to her ear and Shiro picks up almost immediately.

“Hey Shiro!” Pidge says, sugar-sweet into the phone. “Keith’s too angsty and gay for his own good so I need you to convince him to confess to boy-wonder.” Pidge laughs. “Yeah, him. Okay, I’m handing it over.”

“I will end you,” Keith mouths silently, but accepts the phone, and says, trying not to flinch, “Hey Shiro.”

Shiro’s voice sounds bemused on the other end of the line. “So, when exactly, were you going to tell me you’re in love with Lance.”

Keith splutters and his face is instantly hot. He turns away from Pidge and starts heading towards his room, but Pidge clearly saw, because she’s cackling behind him. Jerk.

“I’m not--It’s...Sorry.” Keith says, giving up on coming up with an excuse. “I was going to tell you, really, it’s just--”

“Keith,” Shiro says, and Keith can hear the smile in his voice. Keith lets his shoulders relax and falls back on his bed. “It’s alright. I was teasing. ...Mostly.”

“Shiro,” Keith groans, “Can you please be serious about this?”

“Right, right,” Shiro says, but there’s still a laugh in his voice. “Keith, you know Lance. I really do think he likes you, but on the off chance he doesn’t, he’s not going to stop being your friend. That’s not the sort of guy he is.”

“I know that,” Keith says, “Or at least, my brain knows that. But ugh. I still don’t get why he wants to be friends with me, not to mention...anything more than that.”

Shiro sighs. “Keith, you have to be kinder to yourself. Whether you choose to accept it or not, Lance sees something in you. Lance is a friendly guy, but he doesn’t often take to someone unless he really likes them. Just give it a shot, alright?”

“Fine,” Keith mumbles, resigned.

“Good,” Shiro sounds pleased and Keith imagines he’d be receiving one of Shiro’s shoulder pats right about now if they weren’t speaking over the phone. “Go get him tiger.”

“Oh god, please never call me tiger ever.”

“What? Is there something wrong with that?” Shiro asks. The sad thing is he is genuinely confused.

“Never mind. Just...I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright. Good luck Keith.”

Keith hangs up the phone and stares at the ceiling for a moment. He’s got to do it soon, before he chickens out, but he’s already been surfing with Lance today. Which means, he’s going to have to wait until tomorrow. After their usual lesson, that’s when he’ll do it, Keith decides.

But of course, tomorrow decides to be an asshole.

\--

It’s raining.

Lance woke to the sound of droplets plinking against his roof, and the rain has gotten heavier as the morning has gone on. He’s always loved the rain, ever since he was a little kid splashing in puddles in his rain boots. Rain is also cool because it usually means he’ll have the beach to himself. Not many people tend to be out there on a day like today. Lance is normally a people-person, but it’s cool once in awhile to have the beach to himself, though he has to admit that he’s a little sad Keith won’t be there for their usual lesson today. The rain’s probably a little too heavy for surfing, anyway but walking by the ocean is still a thing he can do, so long as there’s no lightning so Lance sets out.

As expected, when he arrives the beach is empty. Save for one figure. He’d recognize that mullet anywhere. Lance whoops in excitement and dashes down the beach. “Keith!” he cries, “Dude you’re here! We can’t have a lesson today though. It’s raining too hard and I didn’t plan anything. Thought you’d want to avoid the rain.”

“I did,” says Keith, looking absolutely miserable. Despite the fact that he’s wearing a black hoodie and dark-wash jeans, he’s got his arms crossed like he’s cold and he’s hiding under a big black umbrella. “But I knew you’d be stupid enough to come out here today.”

“Hey, rude!” Lance says, pouting. “Screw me for wanting to enjoy this fine weather.”

Keith looks doubtfully at Lance. Lance doesn’t have an umbrella so he’s already pretty wet, but he doesn’t mind. He’s always been really good at willing away colds.

“Come on Keith, live a little!” Lance says, performing a little spin for emphasis. He snatches Keith’s wrist, and tugs him along the beach, faster and faster until they’re racing. Lance is laughing, enjoying the burn of his legs and the thrill of getting absolutely soaked. Keith is cursing and yelling, and he’s getting soaking wet because he dropped his umbrella somewhere behind them, but he’s apparently determined to show Lance up.

They run until Lance’s heart is pounding in his chest and Keith pants, “This is stupid, where are we even going?”

Lance laughs, though it sounds more like a cough. Geez, he’s more out of breath than he’s been for a long time. “Wow, your mullet looks really dumb all wet like that.”

Actually, he’s totally bluffing with that comeback. Lance happens to like the way Keith’s hair looks when it’s wet; his hair looks silky and Lance can really tell how long it is like this and Keith keeps having to brush it out of his eyes...and it’s cute, okay? But Keith doesn’t need to know that.

“Shut up,” Keith grumbles, but it’s clearly half-hearted. Keith can’t quite manage his usual level of ire when he’d just been smiling wide and unabashed as they dashed through the rain.

“You know you love me,” Lance says cheekily. Lance was expecting a denial, maybe even a blush. He was not expecting Keith to get a strangely serious look on his face and start rummaging around in his bag. “Um. Keith?”

“Hang on,” Keith says, “Can you run back and get my umbrella? I want to show you something.”

Lance is too curious to protest. He suspects Keith is going to show him one of his photos, but why so much ceremony? Keith is making this out to be a bigger deal than ever before and Lance hasn’t even given him a lesson in return.

When Lance appears with the umbrella in tow, Keith takes it with an absent minded mumble of thanks, and removes a photo from his bag. “Come here,” Keith says, “I wanted to show you this.”

Lance steps under the umbrella and leans in to take a look. It’s a photo of Lance, of course, but strangely, unlike all the other photos Keith has shown him, Lance isn’t on his surfboard or walking down the beach after a day on the water.

Lance remembers the moment this photo must have been taken. He’d just wiped out on a big wave, and he’d tumbled off his board and hit the water hard. He’d been a little dazed even. It had been a long time since he’d had a spill that bad. When he first surfaced, he’d been frustrated with himself for succumbing to a wave he thought he’d bested. But Lance McClain didn’t stay down for long and he’d ended up laughing at his own his mistake, imagining how ridiculous he must have looked to the people out on the beach. This photo was taken near the end of Lance’s laughing fit, when the uproarious laughter had faded into something softer, but his smile was still wide and bright.

“What is this?” Lance breathes. He stares down at the photo trying to process what he’s been given. It’s the best photo of him he’s ever seen and while he wants to chock it all up to Keith’s skill as a photographer, he can sense there’s something more at play here. Besides, why would Keith keep a picture like this, when Lance was at his most unimpressive?

“It was never about surfing,” Keith says, so soft Lance has to strain a little to hear him over over the roar of the ocean and the pattering of the rain.

“Oh,” Lance says. He swallows, loudly. “Keith…” Lance’s throat closes up. He has no idea how to respond to this.

There is a pregnant pause. Then, finally, Keith speaks, but it’s too quiet, almost timid. “What?”

Lance doesn’t know what this means, exactly, but he can hope. And that hope is enough to give him his words back. Lance grins. “So, you were charmed by my good looks, huh? I knew even you couldn’t resist-”

Keith hits him over the head with the umbrella’s handle.

“Ow!” Lance cries, rubbing his head. “You’re just embarrassed because you had a huge gay crush on yours true--Ow! Will you stop hitting me?”

Keith grins. “I’m trying to keep you from getting a big head. Is it working?”

Lance groans, rubbing his head. “No, I’m definitely developing a bump here, so your plan kinda backfired.”

Keith’s wide smile softens. “Lance,” he says, “I hadn’t been taking a lot of pictures before I came here. I...was looking for inspiration I guess. To be honest, I wasn’t as passionate about photography as I had been before. I was frustrated and confused and doubting myself. That’s why I came here, to try and see if a change of scenery would help. And then, I saw you and,” he snorts, “I was so pissed because I couldn’t _stop_ taking photos of you. And I didn’t even really understand why.

“But. I realized it was because you had what I didn’t. You loved the water and surfing and just...being alive. And this photo….you probably don’t even remember but I seriously thought you’d hurt yourself when you went under. And then, when you came up, I figured you’d be really frustrated, because you’d made a mistake, but you started laughing. And it was. Beautiful.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Lance asks, hope making his heart beat wildly in his chest.

Keith flushes, and suddenly seems to lose steam. “That-Um-The truth is--”

Fuck it, thinks Lance.

“Do you want to go out on a date?” Lance blurts, already cursing his inability to shut up even as he keeps talking, “Like a real date, not like a pizza after surfing lessons kind of thing. Like a go see a movie and maybe mack a little kind of deal.” He swallows. “Yeah.”

Keith shoots him the deadliest glare Lance has ever seen him produce. And he’s seen many. “You idiot!” Keith snaps.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m super sorry, I won’t mention it again!” Lance says, throwing up his hands in self-defence and praying Keith will be merciful. Meanwhile, his heart is sinking in his chest and his throat is tight. He should have known Keith would never go for a guy like him.

“You ruined it!” Keith groans, clutching his face in his hands. “I had it all planned out and you let me get halfway through and then you had to go and do it first!”

“Uh...what?” Is the best response Lance is capable of producing.

“I was supposed to ask _you_ out. Why the hell else would I show you that photo?”

Lance is too flabbergasted to be overjoyed. “Dude, you’ve shown me a bunch of your photos. How was I supposed to know?”

“This one’s special, idiot!”

Lance laughs and laughs and laughs and Keith stands there, staring at him like he’s a work of art.

“So, uh, you never answered my question,” Lance says, when he’s gotten his breath back.

“I thought the answer was obvious,” Keith replies, raising an eyebrow.

“Humor me.”

Keith sighs. “Yes Lance. Yes I will go out on a date with you. ...But I’m paying.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Lance cries, pointing a finger at Keith. “I am a gentleman. There’s no way you’re--”

Keith kisses him.

\--

Keith will admit that in that moment he mostly kissed Lance to shut him up. But the moment Keith presses his lips against Lance’s, Lance makes a quiet startled little sound and practically melts into him, and the quick peck Keith had intended rapidly devolves into kissing Lance like he’s underwater and Lance is his air. The rain pounds down around them, fat droplets shaking the umbrella, but Keith can hardly feel it because Lance is kissing him back with earnest desperation, fisting his hands in the back of Keith’s water-logged hoodie.

They break apart reluctantly, so slowly that Keith can take a moment to stare at Lance’s eyelashes and note that some of them turn red when they catch the light. Lance is touching his lips with a finger, absently, and his eyes are wide and terribly blue.

“We should probably head back,” Keith says, registering the fact that he’s freezing.

“Are you cold?” Lance asks, concerned. Of course Lance seems to be all but impervious to the weather. Typical. “Okay, let’s run back. It’ll be faster that way. Race you? And then. Um. Maybe we could go get some coffee or something?”

Keith grins. “Fine, you’re on. Loser has to pay.”

“Okay! Readysetgo!” Lance cries, all in one big slur, and sprints off down the beach, laughing madly.

“You ass!” Keith calls, running after him. “You cheated!”

“Tell that to your wallet, Keith!” Lance crows, “Because you’re going down!”

In the end, Lance has to pay for the coffee and Keith is appropriately smug about winning despite Lance’s head start. The rain was definitely on Lance’s side, though, because Keith wakes up with a cold and Lance is his usual upbeat self. Somehow, even though he’s sniffling and shivering, and Lance is obnoxiously attempting to play nurse, Keith can’t stop smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Some scenes that didn't quite make it into the fic:  
> 1) After the course of this fic, Keith tells Lance about about the fact that Pidge knew all along and Lance is torn between wanting to kill her, wanting to bribe her into telling him what Keith told her when he was mooning over him, and thinking “Of course she did”. 
> 
> 2) I really, really wanted more Allura in this fic but she steadfastly refused to appear for more than one scene. That said, feel free to imagine her clapping her hands with glee when she finds out that Keith and Lance are together. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! ;;


End file.
